Pathos
by Untimelymanner
Summary: She's a young spirit. But her age holds a tie with her cousin, who was introduced to the spirit life at the same time. She is the spirit of Music while he is the spirit of Naivety. They haven't seen each other in years, but that's about to change when a Guardian finds the Music Spirit and befriends her seemingly out of nowhere. (previously titled 'Breath of Life')
1. Sassmaster

**Sassmaster**

Music is essential.

It's thriving, vibrant, life itself to some. A portrayal of hurt, happiness, anger. You can feel upset, but as soon as you listen to something with pounding bass and intense vocals you're raging.

And sometimes that's a good thing.

Feelings, emotions; they aren't meant to be bottled up. Music is the medium for emotion and letting it all out.

… You get the point.

Very commonly said, music is life.

She holds her mouthpiece in her right hand, switching it to a different hand for the fifth time. She's watching a poor, young boy struggle over his thoughts, trying to decide on the right moment to play her rose-gold trumpet. It was getting colder and -although she did play better in cold, dry weather- clutched her mouthpiece in an attempt to keep it warm.

"C'mon, you've gotta feel _something_ other than confusion. Confusion is the worst. You've gotta atleast feel angry about being confused." She muttered to herself. She wasn't trying to rush the kid into a dangerous emotion. More like coax him in a content state of mind.

She saw the kid clutch his fists tightly, thinking that he was about to break the barrier. Instead he sighed for what seemed like the millionth time, and turned back to his door. Usually she could keep her distance, her mere presence pulling any buried or plain emotions to a very clear surface, but this was not the case. Giving a sigh of her own, she shrugged her deep green cloak up her shoulders, removing her hood which caused light to bounce off and throw gold flicks of light across the side of the boy's house. She walked towards the window, simply gliding through it, and made her way up to the boy.

She approached him carefully, even though he couldn't see her and had no idea she was even there. Once she was less than two feet in front of him, she put her mouthpiece back on her trumpet and reached out tentatively with her right hand. She just barely grazed the boy's, bracing herself for what was about to happen.

It was like being shocked. She never got used to it.

Shock, dread, confusion, sadness, she quickly went through all of his feelings until she reached something that felt appropriate.

Anger.

She jerked away, tugging the emotion into being. She took a few steps back, surveying the boy's face. Anger was certainly not the best thing to feel, but it would help him sort out whatever it was he was going through. Otherwise, she wouldn't have pulled that emotion.

Slowly, his eyebrows lifted, his mouth curling into a frown.

"Okay, let's get you to feeling normal again." The girl said as she pushed the sleeves of her cloak up, a pointless gesture considering they were so loose that they fell back to their normal position around her wrists. She pulled the instrument up to her mouth, taking a quick breath, and played a song she'd picked up from an orchestra far, far away from where she currently was.

The boy clenched his fists suddenly, his jaw locking. She could see that he was really picking up on the anger now and played a bit more, securing the feeling in the boy. Once he sat down on his bed to fume and put in his earbuds, she stopped playing, said her unheard goodbyes, and floated back through his home.

The cold whipped at her cloak now, nearly knocking her over as she walked out of the boy's yard. She tugged her hood over her face and grabbed her mouthpiece again. Her eyes felt heavy and she knew she should rest soon. "Think I'm done for tonight." She said to herself. The wind picked up and threw her hood off of her head. She made a disgruntled noise and quickly yanked it back over her head. "Jeez, wind. Can you lay off a bit? You've been antsy all night."

She heard something creaking above her and turned up to look. She searched the dark branches for any sign of something unusual. Everything was still.

She made a face and looked back to the empty road she was about to walk onto. Just as she began to think of where she should sleep that night, more creaking came from above. She stopped dead in her tracks and look up at the branches again. Suddenly, a dark figure swept across the branches near the top of the tree and landed on another branch.

Her eyes widened and she immediately called out, "Hello? I know you're there!"

The figure froze, acting as if it hadn't heard her.

"I can see you!" She shouted.

The figure then jumped and went to jump onto another branch. But it was a thin branch, much too weak to hold the figure's weight. A loud snap ensued and down came the figure, yelling as it did.

The girl quickly jumped back. She clung to her trumpet with a fear of dropping on the ground. The figure thudded right in front of her.

_Oh God!_

She quickly yanked her mouthpiece off, cupping to her face upside down. A high-pitched whistle that makes anyone she wants crumble to their knees would be let out if she breathed directly into it. She held it underneath her lip, keeping her breath away from it. "Who are you?"

The figure groaned on the ground, twisted into an awkward-looking position.

"Tell me!" She demanded.

"Who… are… you?"

"I asked you first!" She replied.

"AHhhhhhhhhAHHHahhhhhhhhh." They said in a weak voice.

Suddenly a pang of sympathy rang through her heart. Whatever this thing was was hurt. It needed help. "Are-Are you okay?"

"I'll… shake it… off…"

She rolled her eyes, putting her mouthpiece back on her trumpet. "So you're stubborn, I see." She walked forward, carefully kneeling down next to the fallen thing. "And obviously not human."

The figure's head shot up from it's curled up position, revealing their face to bright moonlight. White hair, blue eyes, incredibly pale skin decorated a young boy's face-an incredibly familiar young boy's face…

"You're not human?" The boy asked.

The girl shoved her hood back. "No… I'm the music spirit. A muse if you will. I think I've seen you before. You're a spirit too, right?" She bent back down to grab his arm, gently pulling him upwards and into a standing position. Her fingers could feel how cold he was even through the sweatshirt he was wearing.

Once he was on his own feet, he brushed himself off and nodded at the girl. "Winter." Was all he said.

He glanced at her instrument and pointed. "Trombone?" he guessed.

The girl made a disgusted face and held her trumpet closer. "Uh, no. Trumpet. Trombone is the big slide-y thing that everyone always has to mess with." She pulled it up, enjoying the cold, dryness of the mouthpiece on her lips, and began to play a somber melody in E flat.

The winter spirit smiled. "Of course."

She put the instrument down. Taking the mouthpiece back off she pointed out, "You never told me your name, by the way."

"Jack Frost."

Her eyes widened.

_Jack Frost? As in the one and only? As in the newest Guardian?_

"Oh my God." She said quietly. "I just sassed a Guardian."

Jack Frost laughed as she continued to stare wide-eyed at him. "Don't worry about it. I get sassed a lot. And I sass a lot myself. What's your name, _muse_?"

She felt her mouth creep into a smirk, feeling like she could really relate to this Jack Frost-Defeated-The-Nightmare-King-And-Is-Also-The- Sassiest-Guardian-You-Will-Ever-Meet-Guy.

"My name is Deirdre."


	2. Introvert

**Introvert**

"Deirdre." Jack Frost replied, trying the name out in his mouth. "Deirdre, the muse. The only muse." He spoke.

Deirdre nodded. "Mhm. The only muse."

"Do you ever get lonely, Deirdre-the-Muse?" He asked, sounding a bit afraid to ask the question.

Deirdre had pondered this herself many times in the decades she'd been a spirit. Granted, she was young compared to other spirits. But she still felt as if she were obligated to feel lonely. Loneliness never bothered her though. She found that she accustomed very well to the unseen life of a spirit. "No, I don't."

Jack raised an eyebrow, questioning her.

She sighed, "I was a bit of an introvert before I became a spirit." Jack's mouth opened to ask another question, most likely about her past, and cut him off with a wave of her hand and a conversative sentence. She wasn't ready to tell her entire life story. Even if the listener was a Guardian. "It's freezing. And that's not good for my instrument. I need to be somewhere warm or not here."

Jack's blue eyes widened and he smiled. "I know a place. Have you ever met any of the other Guardians?"

Deirdre felt her stomach drop. She didn't really like being around a lot of people, let alone the most respected spirits out there. "Uh. That's not allowed."

Jack burst into a fit of laughter. "_That's not allowed._ How would you know?"

Deirdre raised her eyebrow, a shiver passing through her from the cold. "Wouldn't it be? Y'know the Guardians are pretty sacred and such."

"Yeah, but I'm sure even the 'pretty sacred and such' would appreciate a visitor every now and then." Although his tone showed confidence, she could still find hints of doubt behind it. After all, picking up on the minor emotions was her thing.

She smirked again. "You have no idea whether it's allowed or not."

Jack considered this for a moment. "You're right I don't."

Deirdre was about to respond when he cut her off. "But your instrument. We can't have a muse with a dysfunctional instrument."

She found herself tugging at the sleeves of her cloak, pulling them over her hands and she thought about joining Jack to meet with the Guardians. "Yes, I suppose that would be a shame if my NOT-trombone was no longer functional."

"Horrible shame."

"Definitely."

They looked right into each other's eyes, amused at their bantering. "Shouldn't we get going, Guardian of Sass?" Deirdre teased.

Jack grabbed her hand. "Have you ever flown?"

Deidre gaped at him. "Are you talking about riding the wind?"

"Yes, actually."

She took a step back, sliding her hand out of his. "Nonono. No, thank you. I think I'll take my chances going elsewhere. Sorry-"

Jack rolled his eyes, which were mysteriously luminescent in the dark. "Oh calm down." And before she could argue any further, he grabbed her by the waist and up they went.

She gasped, clutching onto Jack. He was freezing and soon enough, she began to shake underneath his grip as they flew over the town she was in. She tried to find words to tease Jack further and help take her mind off the heights, but she couldn't. She was just scared, with her trumpet clutched tighter in her hands than ever before.

"By the way, I'm not the Guardian of Sass. I'm the Guardian of Fun."

"M-more like th-the Guardian of T-terror." She managed through chattering teeth.

"Don't worry, we'll be there soon." He said calmly as the wind picked up.


	3. Bad Note

**Bad Note**

Naiev walked up and down the dirt road, marveling at the nature surrounding him. His silver jacket blinked and shone in the sunlight that veered overhead. He could hear the children he'd just visited laughing down the street. Well, they weren't really children anymore. All three of them were teenagers in a study group. They were cramming for some important test. Stress filled the air and they began talking about when they were younger and never had to worry about tests. Naiev could hear them all the way from his home and of course joined them in remembrance, giving them a break with some humor and happiness.

It felt nice to do his job after such a long wait. He lived off of naivety and it was getting more and more scarce nowadays. Children began to think of themselves as adults more so than anything.

Naiev threw his hands up in the air, strutting now, and yelled, "You're doing a great job, Mother Nature." He laughed and ran a hand through his dark black hair.

The trees rustled a bit louder and Naiev knew she'd heard him.

A random thought appeared as he took in the bright and dark greens, the orange dirt, and the endless blue sky: _I wonder how Deirdre's doing._

He stopped. He hadn't thought about her in the longest time. He frowned, remembering the horrible note on which they'd left each other. God, that was decades ago. Right before they'd been taken into the spirit life.

He almost didn't recognize her when he'd seen her on the other side of life. She looked so different, dressed in the most elegant green cloak. It was draped over her heavily, covering a long white gown that she was wearing before underneath her that was embellished with the same gold designs as the cloak, and her feet were covered with gold ribbon as well.

Naieve, however, was donning a silver jacket with sleeves that ended two or three inches before they hit his wrist, a pair of white trousers, and a black button up. His feet were covered with the old-made-new oxfords. They never scuffed, they never got caked with mud or dirt. They always remained shiny and clean.

They stared at each other after they were introduced into their new lives, Deirdre's stare unmoving. He wanted to say something, make all the bad feelings go away. Instead, however, he watched Deirdre turn and walk away, slowly fading into the bustling street.

He'd watched his own family walk out on him. And it was his own fault too.


	4. Scuse Me?

'**Scuse Me?**

It was absolutely freezing in the North Pole. Deirdre wrapped her cloak tighter, hiding her trumpet underneath it. "You brought me to Santa." Was the first thing she'd said when they landed in ankle-deep snow.

"Yup."

"Why?"

Jack looked at her. "What do you mean why?"

Deirdre gestured wildly to what most children dreamed of during the month of December. "Why the North Pole? Why not somewhere I could do my business in a warmer climate? Like Australia?"

His face went blank, like he'd been caught off-guard. He shook his head and look back up at her, smiling. "I though you wanted to meet the Guardians."

"Well, yes. But I thought you'd have a mutual place to meet. I mean, shouldn't everyone else been concerned with their jobs? What would they all be doing here on a normal February day?"

Jack shrugged, but Deirdre saw a flash of knowledge in his bright blue eyes, something that anyone else would've missed.

She squinted her own deep green ones before catching up to him as he walked ahead of her. "This isn't normal at all." She stated simply.

Jack gave her a withering look as he approached a large and beautifully decorated wooden door. "I'm trying to help you."

Somewhere in her mindset, she caught his fear and anxiety. She grabbed his arm, yanking him to face her. "Jack Frost, tell me the truth."

Jack made a face-a rather annoyed one at that- and pulled his arm free of her grip. "I'm seriously just doing you a favor."

Alright, so obviously this guy had no idea what she was capable of as a spirit. She twisted her mouthpiece off of her freezing instrument before hiding it behind her cloak, where she shivered uncontrollably. "I am not to be taken as an idiot." Jack opened his mouth to respond, but she cut him off by shoving the mouthpiece in his face. "Do you see this? This helps me out a lot. I mean, the whole trumpet itself is important, but this is what keeps me safe when there's trouble. But I'll get to that in a minute. Do you know what it is I do?"

Jack simply stared, his eyebrows furrowed.

"I help others with conflicting emotions. I help them express using the ever-giving power of music. Do you know what that means? It means I can sense what someone is feeling. Sometimes I can turn it off, and not feel a thing. It's easier to do that with spirits than humans, but with you? You're like an open book." She leaned closer, pointing him in the chest with her index finger once. "I'm sensing anxiety, nervousness with a dash of annoyance and a bit of happiness for whatever reason. But mostly, anxiety."

"Whoa, there." Jack replied, putting his hands up in the air. "Maybe I'm happy that I found another spirit. And maybe I'm annoyed because you keep accusing me of things. And _maybe_ I'm anxious and nervous because the spirit that I found has quite a nice face." Jack gave a small smile, his face instantly becoming endearing and warm as he raised his eyebrows.

Still, the more fidgety of feelings wafted off of him in strong waves.

Deirdre frowned, and gave a powerful shove at Jack. "You're lying through your teeth."

"Hey, Tooth says their pretty nice. Why can't you?" Jack tried once more.

Deirdre had had enough. With a flick of her wrist, she pulled the mouthpiece up underneath her lip and gave a quick breath. A shrill, short whistle pierced the chilly air and Jack smacked his hands to his head and fell to the ground, his staff following soon after.

With a grin of satisfaction, she said, "You see? Now tell me-"

Suddenly the huge wooden door began to open, revealing yet another agonizingly familiar face. _Oh what is this, a party now? Guest list filled to the brim with the most important spirits children know?_

North, otherwise known as Santa. Guardian of Wonder.

"What is-" he said in a thick Russian accent when his eyes caught Deirdre with her mouthpiece still cupped in her hands. Then his eyes darted at the fallen Winter Spirit who was ferociously blinking his eyes on the ground.

Jack groaned, the effects of the whistle still taking over. Slowly he relaxed, unclenching his teeth and hands. "Told you… I'd find…" He flung a hand up in her general direction. "Her."

Deirdre shot a confused look at North as she slowly backed away. "Wait, you wanted me here?"

Now it was North's turn to level a glare at Jack. "You did not inform her?" He scolded. "You have tricked her?"

Jack winced as he tried to get up; no one offered to help as they were too caught up in the moment. "Ow. Uh… Yes. But, hey! I got her here so why should it matter?"

Anger burned in Deirdre's chest as she shoved her mouthpiece back on her trumpet. She could barely feel her hands at this point and was shaking horribly, althought she hardly seemed to notice it. "I knew it! I could sense it the second we landed!" In a hasty motion, she tugged the hood over her head. "I'm done with deceitful spirits! Goodbye!" And with that, she turned on her heel.

A smug voice called after her. "How do you plan on getting home?"

Before she could even think of what she was saying, she spat, "I have no home anyways!" and continued to walk before realizing she might freeze to her second death if she kept going. She spun back around to find Jack right in her face; North off in the distance at the door with his arms crossed, watching. "Jeez, could you back off!" She yelled.

"Look, we need you." Jack finally admitted.

"Oh, what a shock that is." Deirdre said, voice level with frustration.

Jack reached out, grabbing her sleeve in his ice cold hand. "There are other spirits in there. Five actually. Love, Luck, Time, Fall, and Spring. It's really important. Man in the Moon wants all of us here. He especially wants you."

Deirdre's face went blank and she said, very quietly, "Me? Why?"

Jack shrugged. "I don't know. None of us do. All of the Guardians are here too. We just really need you right now. Everything will be explained if you just come inside." He pointed at her arm that disappeared inside her cloak, holding her trumpet. "You need to with your instrument."

Deirdre looked past Jack at the patient Guardian awaiting them at the door. Did they really need her that badly? What was going on? She switched hands with her instrument, which was difficult as her hands were now starting to shake quite a bit. Looking at Jack, she said, "Okay. Lead the way."


	5. Ever So Watchful

**Ever So Watchful**

This spirit was an odd one.

Such a glorious rarity that it was nearly impossible to resist. Granted, the last was just as rare but ,unfortunately, was taken way with one of the more obnoxious of Guardians: Jack Frost.

It left a bitter taste in Pitch's mouth to watch her go, both of them completely unaware of his figure watching over in the black sky. The complete power of _pathos_ was given to her and her only as far as he knew. Since he could sense fear-and lived off of it- he figured she might be an easy target.

But she wasn't, and now he was following a different and more lonely spirit.

Pitch knew what he did, giving those that wanted to relive their more innocent days a chance with his presence. It was sad really, only giving an impression of better times when people faced real struggles afterwards. He also had an idea of how he came to be. After all he had found Naiev shortly after he'd become a spirit.

He was so consumed with fear, the poor lonesome soul. That's what drove Pitch to him. It was the fear of abandonment, and Pitch could tell he was very familiar with it. He had wondered through the forest at the darkest of night, so far away from his former home in the city. He was racked with empty sobs, ones without tears but plentiful in screams. He'd discovered his inability to communicate with what seemed like the rest of the world, Pitch guessed, and was crying out for someone to hear him anyways.

And then, the most horrid of screams: "Deirdre!" He fell to his knees on the harsh, cold ground. "Deirdre, I'm sorry! Deirdre!" He cried and cried and cried, until finally he fell on his side, weeping into the dirt.

But now, he walked alongside the road as a pickup truck roared by, spitting dirt into the mid-afternoon sun behind it. His demeanor reminded Pitch a bit too much of Jack's as he strolled. He seemed to be content with the idea of loneliness by now, but not particularly enjoying it.

"You leave the boy alone, Kozmotis." A voice whispered in his ear, both delicate and malicious at the same time.

Pitch recoiled at his proper name and turned to see Mother Nature herself. It was sickening to see the most lively of spirits standing near him in the trees. As always, her light brown hair was up in a braided bun and radiated sunlight, revealing her sculpted cheeks and bow-shaped lips along with her wide, pale yellow eyes. Her nose was button-like, a bit upturned which gave Pitch the immediate idea that she was incredibly arrogant. Her fair skin was blushed, and she was covered with a new gown; light pink draped over her and covered her arms, disappearing into a deep, deep red at the ground. Vines wrapped her forearms, holding two golden daggers to the undersides of her arms.

"What a gift we have here." Pitch snarled. "Mother Nature has decided to grace me with her presence."

Mother Nature sighed, looking down at the ground as she folded her hands together. "I see you eyeing a spirit with unforgiving eyes." Her eyes snapped up and looked right into his dark gold ones. "A grudge will be your ultimate downfall."

Pitch rolled his eyes, "I'm sure."

"Take my warning and maybe your conscience will guide you for once." Mother Nature replied.

The Nightmare King scoffed and turned, watching the younger spirit disappear down the road, his grossly bright silver jacket flashing here and there. "I'll take it into consideration. Now, why don't you-?" Pitch looked back and found nothing standing before him. Quickly, he turned behind himself, searching for Mother Nature.

She was no where to be found.

Pitch's mouth curled up in disgust as he clicked his tongue, summoning a Nightmare. It swirled out of the dirt in front of him, casting it black and grainy as it appeared. Once it found it's figure, Pitch reached out, touching the Nightmare's face in what seemed like appreciation. He thought it was irresponsible of Mother Nature to forget that he was not the only spirit called by darkness, and that many of the "better" ones would gladly trade into what Pitch did.

"Let's look somewhere else shall we? I think I know the perfect place."


	6. Others

**The Others**

"Manny requested the presence of all spirits we could contact. He specifically asked that we get you though." North explained as they walked into the warm and busy workshop. She could see Yetis at work in the exposed upstairs and elves teetered about at their feet, quickly dispersing into a different room as North shouted at them in Russian. A large greeting room was sparsely decorated, giving way to a separate room. A fireplace was connected to an individual wall, and in front of it was a pile of pillows.

The muse pulled off her hood, thankful for the warmth. "Why me?"

"Not sure yet. Find out soon, I hope."

She glanced over at Jack as North led them. The staff was at his side, held horizontal to the ground in casual way, but he still seemed to hold on tightly to it. He looked back at her then, and they both quickly looked away.

Deirdre felt her cheeks warm with embarrassment for watching Jack. He was right there! Her eyes were just wondering and just so happened to find Jack. Why was it so weird? Quickly, she filled the quiet void between the three of them to avoid anything awkward. "Where are the others?"

"Tooth, Bunnymund, and Sandy are out looking for more spirits. The other five are in the other room, talking and stuff." Jack answered.

The sound of footsteps resonated and Jack nodded at North. "Here comes one now."

The spirit of love was the first to be seen by Deirdre. She came around the corner, all smiles and beauty and warmth, and extended a hand towards the newest spirit to arrive.

Deirdre quickly took in what she looked like as she reached out to grasp her hand; dark hair the color of cocoa, tan skin, and almond-shaped amber eyes. She was draped in a simple red tunic that circled her shoulder and waist, ending about mid-thigh. From there another skirt extended, a buttery gold and ending at her knees. "So lovely to meet you. Many know who I am and what I do, but barely any know my name. I'm Anorah." She said in a light, friendly voice.

Deirdre nodded, smirking a bit. "Deirdre. Spirit of music, but they probably already told you that."

Anorah laughed pleasantly, letting go of her hand. "Yes, they've told me. And what people say about your voice- well, I'd have to say they're right."

Her voice? Deirdre made a rather expressive face and took a step back in confusion. Her hand lightly grabbed her throat. "My voice?"

"Yes, they say it's one of the most alluring." Anorah raised an eyebrow in realization. "You didn't know that?"

"Uh, no." Deirdre tried listening to herself in her head, trying to hear what Anorah was. Sure she could sing and all that (after all she was the music spirit), but her normal voice sounded nice as well? "This is the first I've heard of it."

Anorah cast a glance at North, who shrugged in response. Jack spoke up, "Well, you are pretty young for a spirit right? North said you were only, like, 50 years old? Which is basically nothing compared us."

"Actually around 67 years old." Deirdre snapped, still angry at him for lying to her.

Anorah smiled, "Well, either way, it's nice. Like bells almost, if that makes sense." And with that she turned and walked back into the room. "They brought the music spirit!" She shouted.

A gasp came from the other room and the sound of shuffling. Soon enough, yet another spirit stood before them. It was a surprisingly young-looking girl, appearing to be around the age of twelve. Her face was spotted with freckles and framed by strawberry-blonde ringlets that trailed down her shoulders, while her eyes were a hazel color. Her outfit consisted of a long sleeved shirt with leather ties that was made of brown cloth and extended all the way down to her wrists. Her pants were a burnt red, and her shoes were simple leather boots. She threw her arms up in the air, "I am the fall spirit! Call me Cassie!" Once more, she gasped and a true look of awe crossed her face as she gracefully skipped across the room. She carefully lifted the ends of Deirdre's dark brown hair on her fingertips. "Such pretty hair. I like how wavy it is. It reminds me of older times."

Deirdre found herself smiling at the young girl's fascination and talk of "older times" as she had to be at least as old as Jack. "I became a spirit in the forties. A lot of people call it vintage now."

"Vintage." Cassie repeated, watching the hair fall back onto Deirdre cloak. It wasn't all that long, about 4-5 inches down her shoulders, still the same length as when she died. Cassie glanced at Deirdre's still hidden hand. "Whatcha got in there?"

Deirdre pulled out her trumpet, somewhat aware that the others were still watching. "A trumpet. B flat. I was very good as a human and it's part of what I do now."

Cassie beamed with excitement. "How much can you play?"

Looking back at North, who looked pleased with all the interaction, Deirdre quietly asked, "Is it okay if I play? I can be pretty loud, even if I don't mean to."

North gestured at her trumpet. "Go on. Is fine."

Jack crossed him arms, his staff folded among them. He looked fascinated as well, although he'd heard her play before they arrived at the North Pole.

Deirdre gave them one last look before facing Cassie again. "Okay, here we go." She held the instrument up to her face, took a quick breath and began to run through the G chromatic, starting with deeper, richer notes that she usually only played to conjure up sadness out of someone. As she went up, she saw Jack walk around North, watching her as she switched her fingers to match the right note. She had an idea when she was nearing the top and decided to reach farther up. She went up and up and up until finally she found the highest note played on a trumpet: the quad C. She held it, showing excellent vibrato and tone as she did.

Cassie's eyes went wide, North took a couple of steps away from her and Jack cringed slowly, gritting his teeth openly. Deirdre cut off, and doubled over in laughter. "I'm sorry, I just-" She gasped, snorting on her own amusement. "I usually don't even go past the chromatic. But I've worked on that for years and years with no one to listen." She snorted once again, shutting her eyes. "I picked the perfect moment, though, didn't I?"

Jack scoffed and shook his head. "Told you I'm not the only one that likes to show off." He told North.

North chuckled as three more spirits entered the room.

An older man (although not as nearly as old as North) with startling grey hair stood, his hands in his black and white business suit. The grey hair was off-putting as the man looked like he was in his mid-thirties. He walked right up to Deirdre, extended a hand graciously. In a Spanish accent he greeter her. "Time spirit." He said. "Father Time, but I prefer Vezendros amongst fellow spirits."

"Vezendros." Deirdre repeated, grabbing his hand and shaky it firmly. "I'm Deirdre. The spirit of music."

The second spirit stepped forward, peculiar in sight and behavior. She looked very willowy and pale, her gown covering her arms and pooling at her feet. She looked on with blind, completely white eyes. A crown made of clovers was laid on her platinum blonde hair which extended all the way down to her waist. She sort of reminded Deirdre of faeries. "Prospera. Luck. Hello." She said, in an almost mechanical French accent.

Deirdre shifted her weight from side to side. Prospera hadn't extended her hand, and instead held them folded in front of herself. The music spirit was just about to introduce herself once more, but Prospera held up her hand.

"No need to repeat yourself. I may be blind, but my hearing is quite good."

Deirdre laughed uneasily as yet another spirit bowed in front of her. "I am Amaryllis, bringer of spring." Her accent was so obviously British, it was astonishing and amusing at the same time. She had brown hair as well, but it was a bit lighter and much shorter, choppily cut up to her chin in a curly bob. Her eyes were small, but so intensely blue that you couldn't help but look at them. "And like Prospera said, no need to throw around your name. I've got it." She gestured to the trumpet. "Quite a set of lungs you've there."

"Uh. Thanks. Now, um, can anyone please tell me what I'm doing here? What all of us are doing here?"

North glanced at Jack, who was leaned up against his staff now. The winter spirit sighed and shrugged. Rounding back to face her, North frowned. He looked deeply concerned and somewhat afraid as he said quietly. "We thought he would stop but he's figured a way out. Unite factions, bring them to battle us." He explained, pointing at all of the other spirits.

"What do you mean 'unite factions'?" Deirdre pondered.

Jack spoke up this time, his voice grim. "Pitch Black is trying to pull together a group of spirits to fight against us."


End file.
